


Cant Fix Myself Like I Fix Those Engines

by Adrenaline_Rat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is depressed, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, idk what im doing, read it i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrenaline_Rat/pseuds/Adrenaline_Rat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a mechanic who literally works himself to breaking point after Sam and Bobby die in a car crash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Dean meets Cas

It's all my fault. It's my fault their dead. I failed. Its all my fault. They're dead and it's my fault. I should have been the one to die. It's my fault.

These are the thoughts that circle Dean Winchester's mind every day. The only thoughts that ever go across his brain. It was his fault Sam and Bobby died. It was his fault that they got in that car crash. It was his fault because he hadn't told them not to go. And now they were gone. 

There was nothing left for him. He spent his days fixing cars and pushing himself to the breaking point. He wanted to die. He had nothing left. But he couldn't kill himself. He had to run the shop. 

AC/DC's Highway to Hell blasted on the radio as Dean fixed up an old Mercury Topaz. There were blisters on his hands from working so hard and some of them were bleeding now, but he didn't care. He ignored it and kept working, swinging the wrench back and forth, back and forth, tightening a bolt. 

His back stung with sunburn and some nasty scrapes from the sharp rocks on the garage floor. His shirt was piled in the corner, gathering dirt and oil. He was also pretty sure he had been wearing these jeans for three weeks. But again, he didn't care. He hardly cared about anything now. He was numb inside and nothing could fix it. 

Dean took another long pull from his drink and set it down on the hot concrete floor of the garage. Warm beer was disgusting but drank it anyway. The sun was beating down on his back and heating him. Probably dangerously so. It was 105 degrees out and he was in direct sunlight. It was getting later though. 

Once Dean was done on the top of the engine had to get under the car. Getting a jack, he propped the car up. He did it carelessly though. "Maybe it'll fall and kill me," he though bitterly and slid under the vehicle. 

His back was scraping on the floor and he could feel the cuts on his back opening up. As did the one just above his hip on his side. He had stumbled and cut himself open on a jagged piece of metal. Dean picked up the wrench, metal heated from the sun, and started working. 

He wasn't sure how long he worked but he knew it was long enough to finish three beers. Eventually, he was done with the car and he slid out from underneath it, throwing the wrench across the garage floor. He was a mess. He knew it too. He couldn't bring himself to care though. 

He pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead and pulled them away quickly after realizing he had blood dripping down his hands. He sighed and let them hang at his side. He would probably have to clean himself up. He irritably grabbed his beer and finished it off, tossing the empty bottle into a far corner of the garage. It landed with a clatter and a piece of the neck broke off. 

"You should probably take more care of yourself you know," said a voice. And oh god the things Dean wanted to do to whoever that voice belonged to. "Yeah, but what's the point?" He asked, looking up at the man who had walked to stand above him, and oh god, the things he wanted to do to that man. 

The sex hair, blue eyes, the way his shirt clung to his frame suggested he was small and weak but Dean could see how muscular he was from where he was sitting, and those /kissable/ lips. This was the first person, first /thing/, Dean had taken interest in since the accident months ago. 

"The point? Well, living," the man answered. Dean chuckled and grabbed another beer, only the have the man take it out of his hands. "Hey," Dean protested, not taking any real action to get the drink back. 

Mystery Man tilted Dean's face up and studied the scrapes and large cut he had acquired from slamming his cheek on the edge of a car. His blue eyes were narrowed in concentration and Dean found himself wanting to see more of that brilliant ocean gaze. "What's your name?" The man asked. "Dean Winchester," the mechanic answered. Mystery Man had a look that flashed across his face but it was gone just as fast. 

The stranger dropped his hand but Dean kept looking up at him, entranced by the contours of his face, his expressions, the way his lips twitched and head tilted when he thought very hard about something. It fascinated him. This man fascinated him. 

"Do you have a first-aid kit?" Blue Eyes asked and Dean took a second to answer. "I've got old tank-tops, whiskey, floss, and a suture needle," the mechanic suggested. When he said it out loud it sounded pathetic but he didn't have the time or money to run to the hospital for every tiny scrape and he hadn't died of infection yet. "Though I prefer drinking the whiskey," he added as an after thought. 

Mystery Man chuckled and pulled Dean to his feet, steadying him as he swayed a bit, working to get his footing. Once steady the mechanic lead the way to the bathroom, grabbing his 'first-aid' kit on the way. There were beer bottles scattered everywhere and a few shirts on the couch. He couldn't remember when or why he had put them there. 

The way the garage was set up was that there was a small reception/waiting area with an office where the paperwork was stored and a computer was on a desk. There was a door that led to the garage through that room as well as the big garage door. In the back there was an inconspicuous door that led to an apartment-like living space. It had a bedroom, small bathroom, and the small kitchen and living area were connected. It wasn't much but it was home and had enough room for Dean. 

They made their way to the bathroom and Mystery Man made Dean sit down on the sink before shrugging off the tan trench coat and throwing it haphazardly to the floor. Dean decided it should be illegal for this man to even wear clothes because god damn. 

The thin white dress shirt stretched over the man's chest and Dean could see smooth panes of muscles. He just wanted to lick and touch and kiss and run his hands over this man. He wet his dry, chapped lips and looked into blue eyes, his favorite color. Sam had liked to wear blue. So had Bobby. Sadness flooded his eyes. 

"What's your name?" The mechanic asked, trying to distract himself from the thoughts that had been crushing him ever since he heard the news. "Castiel," came the gruff reply. Cas, no, Castiel, Dean corrected himself, tore some fabric off of an old tank top and put it under warm water. 

The mechanic was, honestly, impressed by the man's strength and watched his muscles ripple under skin and thin fabric. He wanted to just watch this guy all day, study how he moved. touch him. feel him. 

Dean kept his head still as Castiel pressed the cloth to his face and clean the blood and dirt from the cuts. He used one hand to tilt the mechanic's head up. Dean kept thinking, "No. Why am I letting him do this? Why am I not pushing him away?" He told himself it was because he didn't care what happened to him. Deep down though, he knew it was because he needed it. 

Castiel worked slowly, gently. He made small, soft circles on Dean's skin, washing the dirt and sweat and blood from him. Eventually, his face was cleaned up and Cas had him tilt his head back so he could stitch the gash on his cheek. It hurt a little but it was just an insistent, small, stinging scratching at the back of his mind. Hardly noticeable. 

Once his face was done Castiel made Dean lean back against the wall and over the sink a little. The smaller man grabbed the whiskey and poured it over the cut on the mechanic's hip. Dean hissed and jerked away, eyes widening. The mechanic got control of himself though and held still. Castiel pressed one of the old tank tops to his side and stopped the bleeding before looking up at Dean with his absolutely amazing eyes. 

"Do you have any sports tape?" He asked, voice gravelly. Dean had to consciously stop himself from shivering. "I've got electrical tape," the mechanic offered, pulling a small roll from the cabinet to the side of the sink. He probably had at least one roll in every room of the place. 

Castiel taped the fabric to Dean's hip, the tape going all the way around his torso. Dean shivered and restrained himself from pressing into that skilled touch. He could feel the heat radiating off of Cas and he wanted more. Next came the scratches and cuts on his back. 

"This'll sting but stay still," was his only warning before a rag doused with whiskey was pressed to his back. He gasped and flinched away but a large warm hand on his shoulder stopped him from getting too far. 

Dean groaned and hung his head, panting. It felt like his back was being whipped and set on fire. Cas stayed behind him with a hand on his shoulder, comforting him. The man washed Deans cuts out as his hand ran up and down the mechanic's arm. Dean pressed lightly into that hand and tried to keep his breathing steady. 

Warm breath was suddenly ghosting over Dean's shoulder. "Done with that now stay still while I bandage this up," Castiel murmured and the mechanic turned to look at the man. Castiel looked into his eyes for a moment before moving again. 

Dean cursed those goddamn blue eyes and that fucking sex hair. And holy thin shirt this man would be the death of him. And those fingers Jesus Christ. Just...damn. He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt a cold rag against his back but didn't say anything, just stood still, knuckles white gripping the sink. 

"Relax," Castiel murmured, running his oh-so-soft fingers against Dean's tense ones. The mechanic was forced to relax, taking a deep breath. "Good," the dark haired man praised, continuing to wash and dress the cuts. Once he was done he tapped Dean's shoulder, making the mechanic wince. 

"Anything for sunburn?" He asked. "Nope," came Dean's short reply. Castiel sighed, "you really don't care do you?" He asked. Dean shook his head. The lack of water was making him dizzy and he was pretty sure Cas could tell. "C'mon," the man said, tugging Dean into the kitchen. 

Castiel made Dean sit on the counter and started rummaging through the fridge. "Geez just make yourself at home wouldja?" Dean muttered. Cas turned to him, anger cold in his eyes. He grabbed Dean and pressed him up against the wall. "You should show some respect, Dean. I don't have to save you. I don't have to care," he snarled. Dean glared back with as much intensity, "Maybe I don't want to be saved," he shot back. 

Castiel's eyes widened a moment, "Deep down you DO want to be saved or else you would've ended your wasted life already," he growled, and Dean realized that was the truth. Deep down, he didn't want to die. He just didn't have the courage to carry on. "I can't keep going," he whispered brokenly. Castiel's eyes softened, "you've made it this far," he whispered back. 

Dean shook his head, " and I'm trapped here. Alone," he murmured, choking back tears. Cas kept looking into Dean's eyes. "They're gone," the mechanic continued quietly. " and it's my fault." He voice was hoarse and eyes wet. Cas shook his head. "No. It wasn't. Your brother was Sam Winchester right?" He asked and Dean let out a quiet gasp. "How did you-" 

"Shhh," Cas cut him off. "I read about it in the papers and had a class with him in college and It wasn't your fault. It was a drunk driver. You KNOW that," he said fiercely. Dean shook his head, "I should've-"   
"You should've done a lot of things but it's too late now and you have to let go and not look back," Cas's voice cut him off again.   
Dean shook his head, "I can't. I've got no one," he said, brokenly. 

There was a look in Cas's eyes. Sadness? Pain? Disappointment? Dean didn't know. The man sighed and released the mechanic, "let's get you water," he murmured, shuffling through the contents of the fridge. Eventually he pulled out two water bottles and set them on the counter. 

Dean kept his eyes glued to his lap the whole time. Cas walked to him and tapped his knee, "C'mon," he said, tugging the mechanic to a standing position. Dean leaned lightly on Castiel as the man led him to the couch and made him sit. Dean winced as the scratches in his back rubbed against the fabric. 

Castiel kneeled in front of him and opened a water bottle. "Drink," he commanded and pressed the bottle to his lips. Dean closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and opened his mouth. Cas slowly poured the water into his mouth and Dean swallowed mouthful after mouthful of the cool liquid. The water rushing over his tongue felt so, so good. 

After about half the bottle was down Castiel pulled it away. Dean opened his eyes and looked toward Cas. "When's the last time you ate?" The man asked. Dean shrugged. Castiel's eyes widened, "seriously?" He asked. Dean fidgeted nervously, eyes darting everywhere but the man in front of him. 

Castiel let out a frustrated noise and got up from kneeling on the tan carpet. "Stay here," he said and Dean watched him go into the small kitchen, searching the cupboards. A wave of tiredness hit the mechanic and his eyes dropped. He hadn't realized how exhausted he had been. Dean laid back on the couch and let his eyes droop shut. Castiel came back with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

The man saw Dean let his eyes flutter shut and he darted over, setting the plate on the coffee table. "Dean," he growled, shaking him roughly. Dean shot up, groaning at his headache. "Food," Castiel said, calmed now. Dean shifted and Cas handed him a bit of the sandwich. "Slowly," he said. 

Dean looked at Cas then the food and took a small bite, a mighty feat for him. Cas nodded approvingly once he finished the piece and the man handed him another, not giving him the whole sandwich for fear or him eating it too fast. Dean ate that too. 

"Hey Cas," he said as the man handed him the next piece. There was about a fourth left. "Yeah Dean?" He asked. "Thanks," the mechanic said. Cas smiled, "no problem Dean," he said. Dean let a half-hearted smirk tug at the corner of his mouth and he took a bite. 

They continued this, Cas giving Dean bits of the food to make sure he didn't eat too fast and get sick. Then little sips of water in between. Once the food and one water bottle was gone Dean yawned. Cas gave him a look, "Dean, no offense but before I let you sleep you need to change," he said. 

Dean looked down at his jeans, covered in dirt and blood and sweat. The mechanic nodded in agreement. The two made their way to Dean's room where he grabbed a pair of sweatpants, boxers, and a tank top. Then, Dean walked to the bathroom and changed, Cas staying in his bedroom. The mechanic walked back, feet brushing against the soft carpet. 

Once in his room the mechanic spotted Cas sitting on his bed and god did that do things to him. He suddenly wished he wasn't wearing sweatpants. Dean swallowed thickly and Cas looked up. Dean felt that those piercing blue eyes could see right through his soul. "Better?" It was more of a statement than a question. Dean nodded, not trusting his voice. Castiel gave him a weird look but got up fidgeting nervously. Dean was suddenly struck by a thought. 

"You don't have a place to stay tonight do you Cas?" He asked. Now the man looked scared and that made Dean scared. He'd only ever seen the strong, commanding, side of Cas. "No," the man said. Dean frowned, "you can stay here," he offered quietly. Then remembered his couch was covered in beer bottles and dirty clothes. Fuck. 

Castiel shook his head. "Yes. I'm not letting you go out on the streets," Dean said, tone offering not argument. And the he saw his chance to get that sexy bastard in bed with him. "My couch is totally destroyed so I'll sleep on the floor," he said, knowing what the other man's reaction would be. 

"What? No! Dean! I just finished fixing you up! Take the bed!" Cas said. Dean smirked internally. "No, Cas. You're the guest so you take the bed," he insisted. "Dean, no. Don't be stupid," the dark haired man retorted. Dean faked anger, "Damnit Cas! Either I sleep on the floor or we share a bed!" He said. Cas seemed taken aback but nodded. "Fine. We share the bed," he admitted defeat. 

Dean did a mental fist pump and nodded. "Alright," he mumbled and turned off the light. It was about ten at night now. The mechanic walked over to the lamp on the bedside table and turned it on, realizing how close he was to Cas. 

Dean stared a few seconds. The light cast shadows on Cas's face and if that wasn't the sexiest thing ever he didn't know what was. He had to restrain himself from just jumping forward and attacking the man's mouth with his tongue. Dean coughed to cover up his staring and moved to the other side of the bed, totally missing Cas's self-satisfied smirk. 

Dean crawled into bed and ducked under the covers. Cas knew exactly what he did to Dean and he took it a step further, slowly stripping off his shirt then leaning down and kicking off his shoes and socks. Dean's mouth went dry and he swallowed thickly because damn. Inch after inch of pale skin was being exposed and Dean's sweatpants felt about three sizes to small suddenly. Fuck fuck fuck. Abort. Abort. This was a bad idea. Too late now. 

Cas crawled under the blankets, "Okay just a warning I cuddle and toss and turn in my sleep, just a heads up," he said, looking into the mechanic's eyes. Dean's pupils were blown wide. Mission accomplished. Dean nodded and Cas reached over, plunging them into darkness. 

Dean had trouble falling asleep and when he did he slept fitfully. He hadn't slept in a long time, opting to fix cars all night instead. He had nightmares of Sam and Bobby in the crash, the scene playing over and over in his head.


	2. Chapter Numero 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More sexual tension between Dean and Cas! Yay! and Dean has a hangover and they watch lots of movies.

Dean woke up the next morning to something warm pressed against him. He had a major headache and he groaned then snapped his eyes open. He stayed still, slowly looking down as if moving his eyes too fast might cause and earthquake. When he finally saw what was pressing against him he couldn't say he wasn't surprised but he had been expecting it. 

Castiel had his arm slung around Dean's waist and his face pressed against his chest. The man had tangled their legs together too. Dean considered pulling away but the other man liked so peaceful that he just couldn't. Of course, if you asked him, Dean Winchester DID NOT cuddle. No, he was a MAN. 

Castiel shifted slightly and groaned in his sleep, pressing closer to Dean and making his sore muscles protest. The mechanic held back a groan and bit his chapped lip. Well, this was awkward. Dean really needed to get out of bed because he felt like he was going to puke. 

Cas groaned again and rolled onto his back, opening his eyes and giving Dean a lazy grin. Fuck. Now he had a boner and a hangover. "Morning," the man greeted, sleep still evident in his voice. Dean sucked in a soft breath. Jesus Christ.

"Why are you awake? It's like..." Cas looked at the clock, "7:30. Nobody wakes up that early," he said. Dean swallowed thickly, and rolled out of bed, darting to the bathroom. He wretched into the toilet and he heard Cas come up behind him then he felt a warm hand running over his back and shoulders and through his hair. 

He would've sighed and pressed into the touch but instead he lurched forward a bit and puked again. "Fuck," he panted over the toilet seat. Cas kept running his hands over the mechanic's back until he didn't need to puke anymore and sat back on his heels. Dean closed his eyes a bit, headache still pounding. Castiel took a bit of toilet paper and wiped off his mouth then took another few pieces and wiped off his face and neck. 

Dean opened his eyes, the lights were too bright. Cas sensed this and put a hand on his forehead, blocking the light. "You okay?" The man asked, concern clear in his voice. Dean swallowed, "headache," he said quietly. 

Cas dragged him to his feet and let the mechanic lean on him as he dragged the hung-over man to the bedroom and laid him gently on the bed. "I'll be right back," the dark haired man whispered and darted off. Dean groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. He stayed like that for an unknown amount of time before Cas came back with water and ibprophen. 

"Take this," the man ordered, propping Dean up with pillows. Dean popped the pills into his mouth and tilted the glass back, swallowing them. Cas took the water and set in on the bedside table before walking to the window and closing the blinds. "Good?" The man asked quietly. "Mhmmm," Dean hummed and closed his eyes. 

Cas crawled into the bed with Dean and threw the blanket over them. Dean automatically shifted toward Cas, seeking the soothing warmth radiating off his body. The mechanic fell asleep almost immediately, the medicine helping to knock him out. 

***

The next time Dean woke up he was almost uncomfortably hot and he groaned and shifted. The arm around him tightened. "What time is it?" The mechanic mumbled, eyes still closed. "Noon" Cas answered. Dean groaned again.   
"Seriously?"  
"Yes Dean. Why would I lie?"  
"Just...erg. Nevermind Cas,"   
Dean slowly shifted out of Cas's grip and rolled onto his back, yawning and stretching out. 

Cas's eyes darted over the mechanic's body and Dean caught the movement out of the corner of his eyes. He smirked. "I think I'm gonna work on an old firebird today," he said, comment directed at Cas. His headache was gone and he was feeling much better. The dark-haired man chuckled, "no you aren't." Dean turned and glared at Cas though his resolve wavered as the man still had his fucking shirt off. 

"Who are you to say?" Dean snapped. Cas calmly raised an eyebrow, "need I remind you I practically raised you from hell yesterday /and/ this morning?" He asked. The mechanic glowered, "I would've been fine yesterday without you," he growled. Cas fixed him with an icy stare, " You would've been stumbling around fixing pieces of shit in a drunken stupor and possibly stabbing yourself by falling. You will not tell me you don't need me because I know you do," he hissed. 

Dean opened his mouth to say something but Cas cut him off again, "and don't you dare tell me that's what you wanted because I swear I will punch you in your fucking stupid-ass face Dean Winchester," he threatened. Dean snapped his mouth shut and he seriously needed to go the bathroom NOW because he had a raging hard on. Damn Cas and his Dom side. 

Cas sensed he had won the fight and he rolled out of the bed, stretching. Dean bit his lip almost hard enough to break skin. "I-Im gonna go take a shower," he stuttered, grabbing boxers, jeans, and an A7X T-Shirt and darting into the small bathroom. He sighed and stripped, being as quiet as he could, then turned on the spray. 

The mechanic felt the water and waited until it was hot to step under it. He let out a low moan as the warm water ran over his sore body and stayed there for a bit, eyes closed. But he had a problem to take care of and he turned his attention to his hard cock. 

He bit his lip and slowly gripped the base then slid his hand up, letting his fingers play lightly over the nerves at the sensitive head. Dean bit back a moan and sucked in a breath. He hadn't gotten off in what felt like ages. He twisted his palm over the tip then went back to the base and repeated the action. He purposely went at a torturous pace, feeling as though that's what Cas would do. 

The mechanic envisioned Cas on his knees, slowly sucking him off. "Fuck," Dean breathed, bracing a hand against the shower wall. He sped up his hand and thought more about Cas, how he would look sucking cock. Lips red and abused. Hair tugged at and sticking up in random directions. Blue eyes looking up. Dean moaned softly and closed his eyes, hand becoming less steady. He was close, he could feel it at the base of his spine. 

He quickly sped up his hand and thought of Castiel's voice, how it was be low and gravelly after being used like that. That thought sent the mechanic over the edge and he came, biting his lip and holding back a moan. Dean stood like that a few minutes just catching his breath and coming down from his high. He heard a knock at the door, fuck. 

"Dean are you okay?" came Cas's worried voice. Dean cleared his throat, "Yeah I'm fine Cas," he yelled back. "Alright. I'm making breakfast," Cas told him through the door. "Alright, be out in a minute," the mechanic replied. He heard Cas's footsteps go away from the door and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

Now that he had taken care of his hard-on his slowly washed the dirt and sweat from his hair and cleaned off the rest of his body. Dean turned off the hot water and rubbed himself dry with a towel then he stumbled over to the sink. He hadn't shaved in a while and with the stitches in the face he knew it'd be difficult. He got out a razor and worked slowly and carefully until he looked clean shaven and definitely better than before. 

Dean quickly brushed his teeth and pulled on his clothes before going out of the bathroom and into the rest of the apartment. He figured he had taken about forty-five minutes or so in the shower then more cleaning himself up afterwards. The mechanic went to the kitchen, following the smell of bacon and pancakes? Maybe? He didn't even know he had the supplies for that. 

Dean walked to he kitchen and sure enough Cas was standing over a pan flipping pancakes. He heard bacon sizzling too as he walked into the small room. "Where'd you get he stuff for this?" He asked, sitting down at the small table. Cas kept his eyes on the food, "you had instant pancake mix already and there was a little bit of bacon in the freezer," he answered. 

The man's back was turned so Dean took his sweet time sweeping his gaze over Cas's body. The mechanic watched the man's muscles in his toned back ripple as he moved and the jeans slid low on his ass, leaving an inch or two of boxers showing. He had a fucking amazing ass too. Dean just wanted to come up behind him and- "fuck no. Stop it. Get off that train of thought. Cas will be suspicious if you spend another twenty minutes in the bathroom," Dean scolded himself. 

The next thirty minutes were absolute torture for Dean. Fucking Cas and his fucking muscles and his fucking sex hair and those fucking eyes and that ass. The mechanic thought to himself, glowering at the man's back. Which, of course, led him back to his original thoughts. 

Eventually though, Cas turned around and Dean cleared his face of any emotion. He tried making himself look bored. "Food's done," The dark-haired man said, putting a plate with a few pieces of bacon and a pancake in front of him. A few seconds later a fork slid next to the plate. 

"Thanks," Dean said, picking up the fork and digging into the food. Cas made his own plate and leaned against the counter, taking small, tentative bites of the pancake. Dean raised an eyebrow at him but kept his mouth shut, opting to take large bites of food instead. 

Eventually, they had had their fill. There were about five pancakes left and seven pieces of bacon. Dean stood and put his plate in the sink, "Thanks," he said, looking toward Cas who was now standing by his side with his own plate, waiting for Dean to move. 

The mechanic swallowed thickly and moved over. Cas looked amused and he set his plate in the sink beside Dean's. "so what am I supposed to do today if I can't fix cars?" Dean asked, taking a step back from Cas, I he didn't the man would probably up against the wall having a tongue shoved down his throat by now. Cas let a small smirk show, "watch movies?" He suggested. Dean beamed, "Ha! Yes! Cas you are a GENIUS!" He said, taking the man's hand and dragging him to the living room. 

The mechanic started rummaging through his DVD collection as Cas cleaned up the couch. Dean was such a liar, they could've cleaned it up last night. Ten minutes later the lights were off and the two men were on opposite sides of he couch watching Batman: Under The Red Hood. ((FUN FACT: Jensen Ackles did the voice of The Red Hood in that movie))

Dean didn't pay that much attention to the movie, he had seen it hundreds of times. Instead, he focused on Cas. Their feet were casually touching as the couch was small and they were both fairly tall. Dean had to fight not to move and attract the other man's attention as he studied his facial expressions. Dean smiled as Cas's eyebrows furrowed when the Batman found out what The Red Hood had said when the train had passed and his voice had been cut off due to the noise. 

Dean resisted the urge to chuckle and he got up, grabbing a beer for himself and Cas. He headed back to the living room and sat down on the couch, holding out a drink for Cas. The dark-haired man paused the movie and grabbed his drink then leaned over and swiped Dean's from his hands.

"Damnit Cas!" Dean cursed, reaching to grab the alcohol back. Cas, of course, just held it out of reach. "No Dean, you need to stop drinking so much," Castiel said, getting up and walking to the kitchen. Dean, of course, followed angrily. " Seriously Cas I don't need this shit," he growled and went to grab his drink back. 

Cas, being a fucking sexy-ninja bastard, ducked and hit Dean in the stomach with his shoulder. The mechanic stumbled back as Cas put the beer in the fridge and got out water instead. "Damnit Cas why can't I have a fucking beer?" Dean snarled. Cas gazed calmly at him, "Because you nearly threw your stomach up this morning due to your huge hang over and I'm not cleaning your puke up next time," he said. 

Dean glared at Cas, "one beer isn't gonna have an effect," he growled. Cas glared back, "One beer turns into ten pretty quick for you Dean," he retorted. Now that kinda hurt. Dean took the water bottle out of Cas's hands and trudged back to the couch, "fucking Cas and his fucking body and fucking sex hair," he muttered, plopping down on the couch.

Cas sat on the opposite side and they started the movie. Over he course of the night they watched The Breakfast Club, The Lost Boys, EVERY SINGLE BATMAN MOVIE IN EXISTENCE, The Avengers, and some show about two brothers hunting demons and trying to find their dad and then the apocalypse and something about tablets and falling angels and shit. They'd also gone through two boxes of cheeze-it's. At the end of the last movie they watched Dean stretched and clicked the TV off. It had to be about 2 in the morning by now. "M'tired," the mechanic yawned. "Me too," Cas said groggily. "I'm taking the couch tonight," he added. Dean rolled his eyes, "I'll take the couch Cas," he said. 

Cas shook his head "No. The bed is more comfortable than the couch and you've got healing cuts and stuff," he said. Dean rolled his eyes, "You're the guest, you take the bed," he ordered. Cas shook his head again. Dean was really too tired for this shit, "Fine we share the fucking bed I just want to sleep," he growled and stumbled up, Cas following quietly. 

They both got in the bed. Dean rather ungracefully face planted leaving Cas to throw the blankets over him and crawl under the sheets. The mechanic was out like a light and Cas admired his face, studying the freckles and small scars. Everything. And besides, Dean didn't have to know. 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.

Dean, again, slept fitfully and woke to Cas by his side again. The man groaned at the sun in his eyes and buried his face in Dean's neck before shifting again minutes later and blinking up groggily at Dean. "Morning," he greeted and rolled away, just like last time. "Do you always say that every morning?" Dean snapped, no real venom in his voice. Cas chuckled and rolled to his side, propping his head up with a hand and looking at Dean. 

Dean watched him, eyes sliding up and down his body. His muscles were tense, holding him up and Dean tried not to groan. This man would be the death of him. He'd torture him first though. He still had his jean's on and the mechanic didn't understand how he had slept with them on. Of course, he didn't complain, the jeans had slid low on Cas's hips and he caught a glimpse of grey boxers. Fuck. 

Cas was smirking when he looked back up and Dean turned beet red. "Go back to sleep Dean, its six in the morning," the blue-eyed man commanded. "Can't," Dean said, pointedly keeping his eyes on Cas's face. Castiel sighed, "yes you can," he insisted. Dean rolled his eyes, "obviously not Cas," he shot back. 

Castiel sighed again. He did that a lot when he was frustrated or mad. "Try," he said. "Already tried," Dean said. Cas rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like a curse. Dean huffed. Castiel glared at Dean, "I'm trying to help you Dean. Try. To. Sleep," he growled. 

Dean sighed, "I can't. I'll just get nightmares and be up every five minutes," he said. Cas frowned, "C'mere," he said. Dean's brow furrowed. "C'mere," Cas repeated and Dean slowly inched forward. "Turn so your back is toward me," the man commanded. "Cas what the fu-" Dean was cut off as Cas pushed him down and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Cas," Dean started to protest but the man tangled their legs together and pressed his body to Dean's. 

Dean huffed, " I don't see how this is supposed to help," he said and the blood rushing to his crotch was also not going to help him sleep. "Cuddling helps you sleep. There was a study on it," Cas's muffled answer came. Dean felt warm breath between his shoulder blades and he shuttered, goosebumps rising on his neck. "Cold?" Cas asked. "Uh yeah," Dean said. Hey, whatever excuse works.

Cas tugged the blanket up further on their bodies and pressed closer to Dean. "Cas, what are you doing?" Dean asked, exasperated. "What does it look like?" Cas shot back, he sounded annoyed. Dean sighed, "Im not tired Cas," he said quietly. The mechanic practically felt Cas roll his eyes. 

"I don't care, " came the man's short reply. Dean rolled his eyes then closed them, focusing on relaxing his muscles one by one. He started relaxing the muscles in his feet first, then legs, waist, and moving up. He felt a warm darkness starting to take over his conscious and he succumbed to it happily.


	3. Chapter numberrrr 3.

Cold. So cold. Why was it so cold? Dean opened his eyes and rolled onto his back. But, that didn't make sense. He shouldn't be able to do that. Cas was behind him. Oh. Cas. That's why it was so cold in the bed. 

Dean cast his gaze around the bedroom. It was nine in the morning. He didn't hear anything in the kitchen. Or the living room. The mechanic rolled out of bed an walked around his apartmeny and garage. Every trace of Cas ever being there was gone. No trench coat. No food out. The only proof was the clean couch. 

"No. No no no," Dean whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair. What if Cas had left him? He was all he had. He could feel himself beginning to spiral back into the black pit again. He paced for a while, stressing out. Then got sad. Immensely sad. Then, he felt nothing. He grabbed a beer and laid back on the couch, slowly taking pulls from it and letting his mind to blank. 

He lost all train of thought. It all de-railed. He lost all track of time. He lost all feeling. He lost what he had had. He didn't know how he had gotten attached so quickly. That wasn't usually like him. He sighed and grabbed another beer, then another, and another, and another. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, he just knew that the sun went down, and he was drunk. Wasted. 

The sun came up again, then started to go down. It was probably about seven at night when Cas came back, arms heavy with shopping bags. Dean sprung up, and ran to him as fast as he could, slamming his shin on the coffee table on his way there. Cas set down the grocery bags and Dean pulled him into a hug, pressing his face to the man's neck. 

Dean felt Cas's warm arms around his torso, "I thought you left," he whispered brokenly. Cas smiled against his cheek, "No," he said, not giving any explanation to where he had been. Dean pulled back and their faces were inches from each other. He felt warm breath on his face and he leaned forward a little, starting to close the gap between them. God he wanted to kiss Cas. He'd been aching for that little press of lips ever since he had met the man.

Cas pulled away, smiling sadly. "Dean you're wasted, lets get you to bed yeah?" He said. Dean tried to protest but instead shut his mouth and let himself be herded to the bed, leaning on Cas. The drunken mechanic was layed down int he bed and Cas pulled the blankets over him. Dean reached out for him as he tried to leave and the man turned back to him, "I'm gonna put the food I bought away and then I'll come back okay?" he said. Dean mumbled his consent then drifted off, eyelids closing against his command. 

Cas put the food away then set out a glass of water and painkillers next to the bed before he crawled in and pressed against Dean, smiling. He didn't think that the man had been that fond of him but he was so. . . broken when he thought that he had left. Cas closed his eyes and fell asleep, using Dean's chest as a pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long >.


	4. Ch. 4

Dean, naturally, woke up with a migraine. He had consumed and unnatural amount of beer so it was to be expected. He had Cas curled up on his side and he decided not to move. He saw the pill and water on the side table and grabbed them, trying not to wake Cas. Damn he was warm. It was comforting though, not like an uncomfortable heat. 

With the man on his chest it would be hard not to wake him and he tossed the pill in his mouth and took a small drink with as minimal movement as possible. Cas woke up anyway. "Mph," the man grumbled sleepily, looking up at Dean as he swallowed the pill and water. "how'ya doin?" The dark haired man mumbled quietly. Dean looked into blue eyes and swallowed a bit more water before answering, "headache," he said shortly. Cas looked at him sympathetically and shifted more, just a little bit away from Dean. The mechanic frowned but didn't move toward him. Cas was acting distant and he wondered what had happened last night. 

"hey Cas," Dean started out timidly, running a hand through his unkept, greasy hair. Cas looked at him worriedly. "I- I didn't. . . What did I do last night? If I did anything?" he asked, keeping his eyes down. He didn't remember anything besides Cas walking through the door. Cas's jaw dropped as Dean looked up and that just made the feeling of guilt and shame sit like a rock in his stomach. "Oh god, I did something didn't I? Im so sorry for whatever I did Cas Im so so sorry," he started and was cut off by Cas putting a hand over his mouth. "Dean you didn't do anything, I just thought you would remember," he said, making the tension leak out of the mechanic's shoulders.

Dean shook his head, Cas's hand still over his mouth. He resisted the urge to dart his tongue out and taste the other man and instead pulled away from the fingers spread on his cheek. "I don't remember much," he said, explaining why he shook his head. "I just remember drinking a lot and you coming back." 

Cas's blue eyes flashed. Sadness? Hopefulness? Maybe. Dean couldn't tell. "Oh," the dark haired man said. Dean wasn't sure how to respond, "um I'm going to take a shower," he said, darting out of the bed, grabbing clothes, and heading to the shower. 

Dean got to the bathroom and stripped his clothes off then turned the water on, immediately stepping under he icy spray of the shower head. He shivered but forced himself to stay under the water as it slowly warmed up. "What's happening to me?" Dean asked himself quietly with a sigh. He was lusting after some dude that he hardly knew and he was an emotional wreck. He usually didn't get attached so quickly. Usually he separated himself. So why wasn't he doing that? His heart said keep Cas around, be good to him. But his head said not to. His head said push the man away. His head said Cas was no good and Dean hated himself all the more. 

Dean hated that he didn't know what to do. He hated himself for not being strong enough. He hated himself because he lost Sam and Bobby and had a hard time even functioning after that. He hated that he was weak. He hated he had to get help from someone he didn't even know. He hated that he buried his problems behind a beer bottle and put up walls. His hatred for himself was all that kept him going and it hurt beyond belief. 

The mechanic tried to rise above his self loathing. He really did. But he just hit the surface of he murky darkness and floated then got dragged down again as if by a blood-thirsty shark. But Cas had thrown him the lifesaver and tugged him to the boat just for Dean to jump overboard again and he hated himself for putting Cas through that. 

Dean angrily washed himself off and ignored he sting of soap in his eyes. He deserved much more pain than that. Much much more. The mechanic dragged on his clothes and brushed his teeth then headed to the kitchen. It was near noon but Cas was making breakfast food and guilt wore a hole in his stomach, making him lose any appetite he had. He needed to say sorry to Cas but how did he do that? Go up to him and say "hey Cas sorry for bein an asshole can I fuck you"? (Haha pun) No. He would have to wait for the chance.

Dean padded into the kitchen, tiles cool on his feet. Cas was wearing his pajama pants and an Aerosmith shirt and Dean slowly wanted to strip his clothes off the man and kiss and lick and just explore his body. But Cas probably wouldn't go for that. The mechanic resisted the urge to sigh and Castiel turned around, "Hey doing alright?" the man asked, leaning against the counter. 

Dean nodded, "I'm okay I guess," he said quietly, peeking over Cas's shoulder at the eggs. He smelled bacon too though and there was none he could see. "Bacon?" He asked, looking into deep blue eyes. Cas nodded "it's in the oven. Less messy and way more delicious," he explained. (Okay seriously next time you have bacon cook it in the oven because there's less mess and it tastes like bits of heaven)

Dean nodded, a bit confused and sat down. He figured he probably looked like shit and Cas gave him a sad look then walked forward and pressed a hand against the mechanic's forehead. Dean resisted the urge to flinch away and the hand was warm on his forehead. Cas sighed and dropped his hand, "you've got a little bit of a fever," he said, concern clear in his voice. 

Dean sighed and avoided Cas's eyes, "I'll be alright," he said. The oven went off to signal the end of the time for the bacon and Cas pulled it carefully out of the oven and set it on hot-pads. The meat was sizzling and the smell wafted to Dean making his mouth water. Cas also flipped the eggs onto a plate and set it on the small wooden table. 

Dean really really /really/ wanted the bacon but I was too hot to eat it yet. Cas noticed Dean's longing stare and got out a fork. He speared the bacon and held it out to Dean. "It shouldn't be too hot," he said. He had originally meant for Dean to take the fork and feed himself by instead the man darted forward and closed his lips around the food then dragged it off the tongs of the silverware and started chewing, eyes closed. 

Cas's eyes widened and Dean groaned. The flavor was wonderfully greasy and tasted awesome. After he swallowed he opened his eyes and looked at Cas. "That is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted," he said excitedly, smiling. Cas chuckled at his amazement and handed him the fork, "eat some more," he said. He grabbed the milk from the fridge as Dean shoved another piece in his mouth and poured himself a cup, sipping it slowly. 

Dean looked at the dark-haired man worriedly. "You gonna eat?" He asked. Cas nodded and swallowed then got out two plates and a fork for himself. Dean filled his plate with bacon and an egg and Cas filled his with two eggs and three pieces of bacon. He'd had this many times before. Cas ate slowly as Dean scarfed his food down and grabbed more. The mechanic was especially fond of the bacon and Cas smiled at his enthusiasm. 

Dean turned to him and blushed. "Thank you...for making the food," he said, looking down. Cas smiled wider, "no problem," he said, finishing the last of his egg. The man got up and started washing his plate and Dean studied his back, gaze lingering on his ass and muscled back. Cas knew Dean was staring at him and he smirked a little. Dean swallowed hard and finished his bacon and eggs then came up behind Cas, waiting to wash his own dish. 

Cas looked at the mechanic out of the corner of his eye. He was disheveled, hung over, tired, and there was a sadness dancing in his eyes. As if the man's inner demons were strutting and celebrating their victory of his heart. Cas's stomach dropped and he wanted to pull Dean to his chest. Tell him he loved him. Tell him not to give in. But he couldn't 

Cas pressed his thoughts down and took Dean's plate, starting to wash it. Dean frowned, "Cas you don't have to do that," he mumbled, making a half-hearted grab for the plate. Cas pulled it just out of his then started washing again. Dewan sighed, giving up already. 

The mechanic stayed near Cas, almost as if he we scared to stray too far; like Cas might just fly away and not show up for weeks on end. Cas noticed this and his heart sank. He longed to pull Dean close and not let him go. Tell him he was beautiful and loved. But he knew the mechanic wouldn't believe him. 

Dean stayed trapped in his mind until Cas tapped him on the shoulder, "you okay?" The dark-haired man asked and Dean nodded, sadness still eating away at his heart. Cas sighed, "wanna watch a movie?" He suggested. Dean nodded and went to the living room, grabbing Star Wars and putting it in the player. Cas smiled at the choice and they both sat down on opposite ends of the couch. 

About the time they got to Jaba the Hut, Dean had fallen asleep and Cas had shifted behind him and had an arm around his waist and his lips pressed between the man's shoulder blades, slowly starting to drift off. Cas didn't know why he decided to move to spoon Dean but he didn't think the mechanic would care. Besides, they always ended up pressed together while they slept anyway, like it was meant to be. 

Dean groaned softly and shifted closer to Cas whose eyes immediately snapped open. Cas started to move away slowly, trying not to wake the man. Dean would have none of it, he sleepily grabbed at Cas's hand and pulled him back, staying pressed against the dark-haired man's warm chest. 

Cas resisted the urge to groan as Dean chose that moment to turn around in his arms and look up at him with a groggy smile. Their noses were centimeters away from each other and Dean could feel Cas's breath on his lips. Dean's breath hitched and he looked up at Cas, silently asking permission to kiss him. Cas nodded the slightest bit and Dean closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the other man's. It was short and soft and the mechanic pulled away quickly, looking into Cas's eyes as he blinked them open. "I-I don't know how to do this," Cas whispered, looking into green eyes. "What do you mean?" Dean whispered back, searching Cas's face. 

Cas swallowed thickly, "I- I've never kissed before. How do I know what to do and where to put my hands and-mphhhh," he was cut off by Dean's lips again. "I'll teach you," Dean murmured against his lips and Cas pulled back and nodded. "Nervous?" Dean asked quietly, pressing Cas against the back of the couch and scattering small kisses over his jawbone and neck. Cas wasn't sure what to do. He was so overwhelmed with the feel of Dean's lips on his body and the spikes of electricity running through his viens. He had also discovered, as did Dean, that his neck was very sensitive. "ah. . . De-Dean. Ugh. Dean," He breathed out quietly, unable to stop the flow of words. 

Dean ran his hands up under Cas's shirt, drawing another moan from the man. Cas hesitantly tangled his hands in Dean's hair and Dean hummed happily to encourage him. He nipped lightly at Cas's neck and the man gasped. "D-dean," he breathed. "hmmmm," Dean hummed. "w-what-mmph" Cas was cut off, once again, by Dean's lips. "Hush, it'll be okay," the mechanic murmured. Cas was still nervous but got his nerves down and kissed Dean, pressing insistently at his lips. Dean chuckled and kissed back just as hard. It was bruising and needy and more teeth than lips but it was also utterly perfect. 

"Hey Cas," Dean said, pulling back and pressing his forehead against the other man's and staring into blue eyes. Cas stared back into green eyes and felt his heart beat faster, if possible. "yeah?" he asked. "Thanks," the mechanic said shortly. Cas thought a moment. "For what?" he asked. Dean smiled and it was the most beautiful thing the dark-haired man had seen. 

"For fixing me," Dean said, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Cas's lips. Cas smirked because what Dean didn't know, is that they both had been broken, and they had put the pieces back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp there ya go


	5. I literally forgot to upload this chapter I'm a horrible writer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I legit forgot to upload this chapter, I forgot to upload it, I thought I uploaded it. . . .It's been sitting on my computer just waiting.

Dean, naturally, woke up with a migraine. He had consumed and unnatural amount of beer so it was to be expected. He had Cas curled up on his side and he decided not to move. He saw the pill and water on the side table and grabbed them, trying not to wake Cas. Damn he was warm. It was comforting though, not like an uncomfortable heat. 

With the man on his chest it would be hard not to wake him and he tossed the pill in his mouth and took a small drink with as minimal movement as possible. Cas woke up anyway. "Mph," the man grumbled sleepily, looking up at Dean as he swallowed the pill and water. "how'ya doin?" The dark haired man mumbled quietly. Dean looked into blue eyes and swallowed a bit more water before answering, "headache," he said shortly. Cas looked at him sympathetically and shifted more, just a little bit away from Dean. The mechanic frowned but didn't move toward him. Cas was acting distant and he wondered what had happened last night. 

"hey Cas," Dean started out timidly, running a hand through his unkept, greasy hair. Cas looked at him worriedly. "I- I didn't. . . What did I do last night? If I did anything?" he asked, keeping his eyes down. He didn't remember anything besides Cas walking through the door. Cas's jaw dropped as Dean looked up and that just made the feeling of guilt and shame sit like a rock in his stomach. "Oh god, I did something didn't I? Im so sorry for whatever I did Cas Im so so sorry," he started and was cut off by Cas putting a hand over his mouth. "Dean you didn't do anything, I just thought you would remember," he said, making the tension leak out of the mechanic's shoulders.

Dean shook his head, Cas's hand still over his mouth. He resisted the urge to dart his tongue out and taste the other man and instead pulled away from the fingers spread on his cheek. "I don't remember much," he said, explaining why he shook his head. "I just remember drinking a lot and you coming back." 

Cas's blue eyes flashed. Sadness? Hopefulness? Maybe. Dean couldn't tell. "Oh," the dark haired man said. Dean wasn't sure how to respond, "um I'm going to take a shower," he said, darting out of the bed, grabbing clothes, and heading to the shower. 

Dean got to the bathroom and stripped his clothes off then turned the water on, immediately stepping under he icy spray of the shower head. He shivered but forced himself to stay under the water as it slowly warmed up. "What's happening to me?" Dean asked himself quietly with a sigh. He was lusting after some dude that he hardly knew and he was an emotional wreck. He usually didn't get attached so quickly. Usually he separated himself. So why wasn't he doing that? His heart said keep Cas around, be good to him. But his head said not to. His head said push the man away. His head said Cas was no good and Dean hated himself all the more. 

Dean hated that he didn't know what to do. He hated himself for not being strong enough. He hated himself because he lost Sam and Bobby and had a hard time even functioning after that. He hated that he was weak. He hated he had to get help from someone he didn't even know. He hated that he buried his problems behind a beer bottle and put up walls. His hatred for himself was all that kept him going and it hurt beyond belief. 

The mechanic tried to rise above his self loathing. He really did. But he just hit the surface of he murky darkness and floated then got dragged down again as if by a blood-thirsty shark. But Cas had thrown him the lifesaver and tugged him to the boat just for Dean to jump overboard again and he hated himself for putting Cas through that. 

Dean angrily washed himself off and ignored he sting of soap in his eyes. He deserved much more pain than that. Much much more. The mechanic dragged on his clothes and brushed his teeth then headed to the kitchen. It was near noon but Cas was making breakfast food and guilt wore a hole in his stomach, making him lose any appetite he had. He needed to say sorry to Cas but how did he do that? Go up to him and say "hey Cas sorry for bein an asshole can I fuck you"? (Haha pun) No. He would have to wait for the chance.

Dean padded into the kitchen, tiles cool on his feet. Cas was wearing his pajama pants and an Aerosmith shirt and Dean slowly wanted to strip his clothes off the man and kiss and lick and just explore his body. But Cas probably wouldn't go for that. The mechanic resisted the urge to sigh and Castiel turned around, "Hey doing alright?" the man asked, leaning against the counter. 

Dean nodded, "I'm okay I guess," he said quietly, peeking over Cas's shoulder at the eggs. He smelled bacon too though and there was none he could see. "Bacon?" He asked, looking into deep blue eyes. Cas nodded "it's in the oven. Less messy and way more delicious," he explained. (Okay seriously next time you have bacon cook it in the oven because there's less mess and it tastes like bits of heaven)

Dean nodded, a bit confused and sat down. He figured he probably looked like shit and Cas gave him a sad look then walked forward and pressed a hand against the mechanic's forehead. Dean resisted the urge to flinch away and the hand was warm on his forehead. Cas sighed and dropped his hand, "you've got a little bit of a fever," he said, concern clear in his voice. 

Dean sighed and avoided Cas's eyes, "I'll be alright," he said. The oven went off to signal the end of the time for the bacon and Cas pulled it carefully out of the oven and set it on hot-pads. The meat was sizzling and the smell wafted to Dean making his mouth water. Cas also flipped the eggs onto a plate and set it on the small wooden table. 

Dean really really /really/ wanted the bacon but I was too hot to eat it yet. Cas noticed Dean's longing stare and got out a fork. He speared the bacon and held it out to Dean. "It shouldn't be too hot," he said. He had originally meant for Dean to take the fork and feed himself by instead the man darted forward and closed his lips around the food then dragged it off the tongs of the silverware and started chewing, eyes closed. 

Cas's eyes widened and Dean groaned. The flavor was wonderfully greasy and tasted awesome. After he swallowed he opened his eyes and looked at Cas. "That is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted," he said excitedly, smiling. Cas chuckled at his amazement and handed him the fork, "eat some more," he said. He grabbed the milk from the fridge as Dean shoved another piece in his mouth and poured himself a cup, sipping it slowly. 

Dean looked at the dark-haired man worriedly. "You gonna eat?" He asked. Cas nodded and swallowed then got out two plates and a fork for himself. Dean filled his plate with bacon and an egg and Cas filled his with two eggs and three pieces of bacon. He'd had this many times before. Cas ate slowly as Dean scarfed his food down and grabbed more. The mechanic was especially fond of the bacon and Cas smiled at his enthusiasm. 

Dean turned to him and blushed. "Thank you...for making the food," he said, looking down. Cas smiled wider, "no problem," he said, finishing the last of his egg. The man got up and started washing his plate and Dean studied his back, gaze lingering on his ass and muscled back. Cas knew Dean was staring at him and he smirked a little. Dean swallowed hard and finished his bacon and eggs then came up behind Cas, waiting to wash his own dish. 

Cas looked at the mechanic out of the corner of his eye. He was disheveled, hung over, tired, and there was a sadness dancing in his eyes. As if the man's inner demons were strutting and celebrating their victory of his heart. Cas's stomach dropped and he wanted to pull Dean to his chest. Tell him he loved him. Tell him not to give in. But he couldn't 

Cas pressed his thoughts down and took Dean's plate, starting to wash it. Dean frowned, "Cas you don't have to do that," he mumbled, making a half-hearted grab for the plate. Cas pulled it just out of his way then started washing again. Dean sighed, giving up already. 

The mechanic stayed near Cas, almost as if he we scared to stray too far; like Cas might just fly away and not show up for weeks on end. Cas noticed this and his heart sank. He longed to pull Dean close and not let him go. Tell him he was beautiful and loved. But he knew the mechanic wouldn't believe him. 

Dean stayed trapped in his mind until Cas tapped him on the shoulder, "you okay?" The dark-haired man asked and Dean nodded, sadness still eating away at his heart. Cas sighed, "wanna watch a movie?" He suggested. Dean nodded and went to the living room, grabbing Star Wars and putting it in the player. Cas smiled at the choice and they both sat down on opposite ends of the couch. 

About the time they got to Jaba the Hut, Dean had fallen asleep and Cas had shifted behind him and had an arm around his waist and his lips pressed between the man's shoulder blades, slowly starting to drift off. Cas didn't know why he decided to move to spoon Dean but he didn't think the mechanic would care. Besides, they always ended up pressed together while they slept anyway, like it was meant to be. 

Dean groaned softly and shifted closer to Cas whose eyes immediately snapped open. Cas started to move away slowly, trying not to wake the man. Dean would have none of it, he sleepily grabbed at Cas's hand and pulled him back, staying pressed against the dark-haired man's warm chest. 

Cas resisted the urge to groan as Dean chose that moment to turn around in his arms and look up at him with a groggy smile. Their noses were centimeters away from each other and Dean could feel Cas's breath on his lips. Dean's breath hitched and he looked up at Cas, silently asking permission to kiss him. Cas nodded the slightest bit and Dean closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the other man's. It was short and soft and the mechanic pulled away quickly, looking into Cas's eyes as he blinked them open. "I-I don't know how to do this," Cas whispered, looking into green eyes. "What do you mean?" Dean whispered back, searching Cas's face. 

Cas swallowed thickly, "I- I've never kissed before. How do I know what to do and where to put my hands and-mphhhh," he was cut off by Dean's lips again. "I'll teach you," Dean murmured against his lips and Cas pulled back and nodded. "Nervous?" Dean asked quietly, pressing Cas against the back of the couch and scattering small kisses over his jawbone and neck. Cas wasn't sure what to do. He was so overwhelmed with the feel of Dean's lips on his body and the spikes of electricity running through his viens. He had also discovered, as did Dean, that his neck was very sensitive. "ah. . . De-Dean. Ugh. Dean," He breathed out quietly, unable to stop the flow of words. 

Dean ran his hands up under Cas's shirt, drawing another moan from the man. Cas hesitantly tangled his hands in Dean's hair and Dean hummed happily to encourage him. He nipped lightly at Cas's neck and the man gasped. "D-dean," he breathed. "hmmmm," Dean hummed. "w-what-mmph" Cas was cut off, once again, by Dean's lips. "Hush, it'll be okay," the mechanic murmured. Cas was still nervous but got his nerves down and kissed Dean, pressing insistently at his lips. Dean chuckled and kissed back just as hard. It was bruising and needy and more teeth than lips but it was also utterly perfect. 

"Hey Cas," Dean said, pulling back and pressing his forehead against the other man's and staring into blue eyes. Cas stared back into green eyes and felt his heart beat faster, if possible. "yeah?" he asked. "Thanks," the mechanic said shortly. Cas thought a moment. "For what?" he asked. Dean smiled and it was the most beautiful thing the dark-haired man had seen. 

"For fixing me," Dean said, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Cas's lips. Cas smirked because what Dean didn't know, is that they both had been broken, and they had put the pieces back together.


End file.
